Read Online Finding Rebecca: A Novel of Love and the Holocaust by Eoin Dempsey - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Eoin Dempsey
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expected. The image of Rebecca wandered
somewhere into his vision. He wondered why he couldn’t forget her. He turned
the cold-water faucet and splashed some water up onto his face. The voices were
still there, still downstairs in the kitchen and he wanted to go back down. The
towel was hard and cold and he used it quickly, finishing drying his hands in
his armpits as he approached the door. He listened to the house, as he always
did at this time of night. There was nothing other than the gentle flow of the
wind outside and the muffled patter of voices through the floorboards. He would
go down, if only to say goodnight, even though he had already done so.
There was light coming from
downstairs cast up the stairs and he followed it down, taking each step slowly.
He heard Uli speak and then his father and he sat down on the last step, not
wanting to interrupt. He listened. The conversation had turned and meandered
between their own mother, who had died 6 years before, their own father, who
had died before Christopher was born, and Christopher’s mother.
“All dead,” Uli asserted. Christopher
moved his head around the banister at the end of the stairwell. The door was
open enough that he could see Uli sitting back on his chair facing Stefan, out
of Christopher’s view behind the wall. “I can’t quite remember meeting Hannah
for the first time, I was so young.” Christopher’s heart burned at the mention of his mother’s name. He
watched Uli stare across the table, waiting for an answer that didn’t come.
“She was always so good to me, and even Father liked her, even Father.” Uli’s
voice trailed off and he picked up the glass in front of him and took a gulp of
the mahogany brown liquid.
“She was the only thing I never had
any doubt over. People say that I should move on. You tell me that all the time,
but how can I? I can’t. I don’t feel that she ever truly left me. I feel like
she’s still here, with me.”
Christopher stared down into the dark
of the corner, his entire body rigid. The fire within him had gone out and he
felt absolutely cold.
“Perhaps it’s time to let her go.
It’s been thirteen years now, brother. You’re not old. You’ve still got a life
to live.”
“Maybe, but maybe I just don’t want
to live it without her.” And then nothing, for thirty seconds or more until
Stefan started again. “Anyway I’ve never met anyone who matched up to her. And
bringing a woman back home to the children…. they’re not children anymore, I
suppose, but I just couldn’t do it. You know I met Hannah when I wasn’t too
much older than Christopher was when we moved here. Her grandfather was German.
You knew that already though.”
Christopher saw Uli smiling as he
nodded his head.
“You know I don’t remember the first
time I met her either. It was like she was always there, always with me, from
even before I was born.” Stefan said.
“I never had anyone like that. I
never had what you had.”
“You still can. It’s all there for
you.”
“It’s still there for you, too.”
“Christopher and Alexandra are more
than enough for me. Christopher is...” and Christopher jerked his head around
the end of the stairwell, just far enough that he thought Uli wouldn’t see him
but his movements were clumsy and slow and he smacked his cheek against the
banister. The stairs shook slightly and Christopher was sure he would be caught
but they didn’t notice, and kept on talking. “We’re so alike,” his father
continued, “too much so sometimes. That’s why I took the decision about
Rebecca, when she left I mean.” Christopher froze.
“With the letters she sent?”
Christopher felt his eyes almost bulging
out of their sockets and
somewhere into his vision. He wondered why he couldn’t forget her. He turned
the cold-water faucet and splashed some water up onto his face. The voices were
still there, still downstairs in the kitchen and he wanted to go back down. The
towel was hard and cold and he used it quickly, finishing drying his hands in
his armpits as he approached the door. He listened to the house, as he always
did at this time of night. There was nothing other than the gentle flow of the
wind outside and the muffled patter of voices through the floorboards. He would
go down, if only to say goodnight, even though he had already done so.
There was light coming from
downstairs cast up the stairs and he followed it down, taking each step slowly.
He heard Uli speak and then his father and he sat down on the last step, not
wanting to interrupt. He listened. The conversation had turned and meandered
between their own mother, who had died 6 years before, their own father, who
had died before Christopher was born, and Christopher’s mother.
“All dead,” Uli asserted. Christopher
moved his head around the banister at the end of the stairwell. The door was
open enough that he could see Uli sitting back on his chair facing Stefan, out
of Christopher’s view behind the wall. “I can’t quite remember meeting Hannah
for the first time, I was so young.” Christopher’s heart burned at the mention of his mother’s name. He
watched Uli stare across the table, waiting for an answer that didn’t come.
“She was always so good to me, and even Father liked her, even Father.” Uli’s
voice trailed off and he picked up the glass in front of him and took a gulp of
the mahogany brown liquid.
“She was the only thing I never had
any doubt over. People say that I should move on. You tell me that all the time,
but how can I? I can’t. I don’t feel that she ever truly left me. I feel like
she’s still here, with me.”
Christopher stared down into the dark
of the corner, his entire body rigid. The fire within him had gone out and he
felt absolutely cold.
“Perhaps it’s time to let her go.
It’s been thirteen years now, brother. You’re not old. You’ve still got a life
to live.”
“Maybe, but maybe I just don’t want
to live it without her.” And then nothing, for thirty seconds or more until
Stefan started again. “Anyway I’ve never met anyone who matched up to her. And
bringing a woman back home to the children…. they’re not children anymore, I
suppose, but I just couldn’t do it. You know I met Hannah when I wasn’t too
much older than Christopher was when we moved here. Her grandfather was German.
You knew that already though.”
Christopher saw Uli smiling as he
nodded his head.
“You know I don’t remember the first
time I met her either. It was like she was always there, always with me, from
even before I was born.” Stefan said.
“I never had anyone like that. I
never had what you had.”
“You still can. It’s all there for
you.”
“It’s still there for you, too.”
“Christopher and Alexandra are more
than enough for me. Christopher is...” and Christopher jerked his head around
the end of the stairwell, just far enough that he thought Uli wouldn’t see him
but his movements were clumsy and slow and he smacked his cheek against the
banister. The stairs shook slightly and Christopher was sure he would be caught
but they didn’t notice, and kept on talking. “We’re so alike,” his father
continued, “too much so sometimes. That’s why I took the decision about
Rebecca, when she left I mean.” Christopher froze.
“With the letters she sent?”
Christopher felt his eyes almost bulging
out of their sockets and
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